


some reasons why sawamura daichi has the hots for sugawara koushi

by atsueshi



Category: Haikyuu!!
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-10-18
Updated: 2015-10-18
Packaged: 2018-04-26 21:57:56
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 827
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5021989
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/atsueshi/pseuds/atsueshi
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Daichi tries to figure out why he likes Suga. He fails, inevitably.</p>
<p></p><blockquote>
  <p>It had to be the ass. Something about the way Suga’s ass moved when he steps in for the toss, or the tightening of those tracksuits while they walked home, or the way the school slacks fit right above his hip, or just the simple fact of its existence being just as Sugawara Koushi as everything else about Suga... His ass was perfect, even if he does remind Daichi that Daichi’s got the best butt among all of Karasuno’s players.</p>
</blockquote>
            </blockquote>





	some reasons why sawamura daichi has the hots for sugawara koushi

**Author's Note:**

> this was all because of some conversation I had with tumblr's andythelemon and I just got feelings okay?

It _had_ to be the ass. Something about the way Suga’s ass moved when he steps in for the toss, or the tightening of those tracksuits while they walked home, or the way the school slacks fit right above his hip, or just the simple fact of its existence being just as Sugawara Koushi as everything else about Suga... His ass was perfect, even if he _does_ remind Daichi that Daichi’s got the best butt among all of Karasuno’s players.

Or... well, maybe it’s the hair? The colour of it, nearly silver all the way through except for the roots where it’s ash gray, and Daichi loves the colour so very _much_ ; the smell, something like that clean scent of shampoo and the permanent musk of sweat from the many years of practice, and the sweet undertones of some perfume, Daichi doesn’t really understand... Maybe it’s the feel of that hair in his hands while they kiss, how smooth and soft and just good it feels when he grabs and tugs and Suga whimpers or groans or outright _growls_ in response to each small motion that brings his lips closer to Daichi’s.

Or those lips, that mouth. That beautiful mouth that always knew what to say and when to say it, those lips that were always soft and tasted like chocolates and fire. When they kissed, Daichi could hear nothing but the small breaths that Suga took in between the most minute of pauses, and Suga’s lips were _home,_ Suga’s mouth was the warmest place he’d ever been. And when they fucked, and fucked _hard_ , Suga’s mouth was a cannon that fired the dirtiest words Daichi had ever heard in his life, and it riles Daichi up so much but heloves it, loves the sound of Suga’s voice, loves the way Suga’s mouth says “harder, Sawamura, goddammit” and “is that all you can do, captain?”. Suga’s mouth can get him going in less than a second, and if _that_ isn’t quite amazing, then Daichi isn’t sure what else is--

\--but perhaps it’s the moles and freckles that litter Suga’s body, each one familiar to Daichi somehow, from all the times he’s seen it and kissed it and traced his fingers through the constellations of it on Suga’s back, and chest, and legs, and arms... Suga is a universe all on his own, and Daichi knows he has much to unravel still, and the prospect of counting all those stars excites Daichi and gives him hope, or some kind of lame goal anyway. Sugawara Koushi is everything good he could ever ask of the world, and he’s happy watching the lights hit Suga’s back; those moles and freckles show him something new every time, show him stories and pictures and possibilities, and when he kisses each and every one of them (like he always does), Suga’s smile is beautiful and replete, and his eyes...

_Ah_.

It’s the eyes, then. That unforgettable shade of warmest brown and orange, those eyes that know too much and have seen enough of Daichi and yet still manage to look at him like he was everything worth seeing in the world. Suga’s eyes speak to him. Suga’s eyes tell him what his mouth could not. It tells him to make love, to kiss, to smile; tells him to fuck, and cuddle, and to do his cool-down exercises properly lest he pulls a muscle. It shows him Suga’s mischief, reveals the playful little shit that likes to stir chaos every once in a while. It tells him of Suga’s wants, of his desires and fears, tells him what troubles Suga’s beautiful soul. It tells him how much he means to Suga, and when everything feels like a failure --- when he misses a critical receive, when he gets pulled out for an injury and has to leave the team, when _they lose to Seijou_ \--- Suga’s eyes tell him just how much he’s worth, and all is right again.

“Daichi? You’re awfully quiet. What is it?”

He looks to his side and sees Suga, and his breath rushes out of him in one beat. Like this, with the sunset bathing Suga in fiery reds and bright yellows, casting shadows over his face and lighting up his eyes and making him seem so ethereal, Suga is beautiful, is perfect, is _his,_ and Daichi finds his answer just like that.

“It’s just you,” he tells Suga. “All of you.”

And for once, Suga doesn’t have a cheeky reply. Daichi smiles and grabs his hand, drags him into his arms, holds Suga close and breathes him in, and chuckles at Suga’s failed attempts at coming up with a snarky response.

“You’re so dumb sometimes, Daichi,” Suga mumbles into his chest. Daichi could hear the pout in his voice.

“Yeah, yeah, I know,” he accedes. Trying to find out why was plenty stupid, after all.

_It’s just you._

Suga embraces him, too.

“So dumb.”

This time, Daichi knows he smiles.

**Author's Note:**

> Comments would be lovely!


End file.
